


Blue Ribbon Baby

by ginger-ai (mesutwoahzil)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Collars, Dom/sub, M/M, a lot less hardcore than it sounds, don't look at me, this is purely self-serving moosh ok i just wanted to see newt in a pretty collar thats all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:31:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9834758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mesutwoahzil/pseuds/ginger-ai
Summary: “You pick it.”Percival barely saves himself from scratching a line of ink across the carefully penned lines of his letter to the ministry when Newt’s voice seemingly appears from nowhere, disturbing the quiet of his office.Slowly, he raises his eyes to the door, where the man in question stands, posture hunched, toes turned ever so slightly inwards.“How did you get in here?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> a short and simple oneshot because ive been holding this idea in for a long time and i basically needed to get it out onto paper as fast as i could. if people like this i might do more in this universe because i certainly have ideas for it ;))))

“You pick it.”

Percival barely saves himself from scratching a line of ink across the carefully penned lines of his letter to the ministry when Newt’s voice seemingly appears from nowhere, disturbing the quiet of his office.

Slowly, he raises his eyes to the door, where the man in question stands, posture hunched, toes turned ever so slightly inwards.

“How did you get in here?”

In lieu of a response, Newt takes a tentative few steps towards an empty chair across from Percival’s desk but refrains from sitting. Instead, he lifts his eyes from the floor up to meet Percival’s.

It’s rare for Percival to feel like he’s the one being pinned down, but Newt’s gaze seems to do it just fine. Percival swallows, all at once overcome with the same wash of feeling that drew him to Newt Scamander in the first place. After so many months together, it hasn’t faded.

“I said, you pick it.” Newt repeats, softer.

At Newt’s tone, Percival feels another surge of warmth. Of course Newt had dragged himself all the way to MACUSA, undoubtedly breaking multiple laws to weasel his way up to Percival’s office in a restricted area, just to tell him this.

“Are you sure?”

Newt swallows ands nods once, eyes falling back to the floor. “I—I thought it would be better if. If it was your choice. I want you to pick it. “

Finally in control of himself enough to stand, Percival leans up out of his chair and circles his desk, coming to stand in front of Newt. Slowly, as if approaching a wild animal (a technique that Newt had lecture him on a hundred times), Percival raises his hand and cups the underside of Newt’s jaw, tipping his face back up.

“I don’t want to get you something you’re not happy with.”

Newt seems to steel himself under Percival’s hand, eyes meeting his and staying there this time, overwhelming Percival yet again with how open and tender they are.

“You picking it is what will make me happy.”

Percival traces his thumb along a sharp cheekbone, letting his lips curl up at the edges into a gentle smile. Newt’s eyes flick down to his mouth and a smile of his own blooms in reply. His face flushes and one hand travels up to cover Percival’s on his cheek.

Percival can hardly believe that the man in front of him is _his_.

“Okay.”

He wants nothing more than to kiss Newt right here in his office, but he refrains and settles for pressing his lips to Newt’s forehead and drawing in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent of wood and earth and warmth that is so _Newt_ before stepping away and turning his back on the smaller man.

“Go home and wait for me there. Do whatever you need to do while I finish up here and I’ll find something.” Percival swivel’s his head back to glance at the other man.

Newt, transparent as he is, can hardly conceal his surprise.

“You’ll be able to find something today? So soon?”

“Yes.” Percival levels an amused look at Newt that invites further questioning. “Now go, and be ready for when I get home. I won’t be much longer than I usually am.”

He returns to his seat and takes up his quill again. When he glances his eyes upwards again, Newt is gone.

* * *

 

The early days of Newt and Percival’s relationship had largely been characterized by novelty. They were both people that were so unaccustomed to things like affection and intimacy that the act of skirting around each other, barely brushing, speaking in stolen glances and hidden smiles, was enough to overwhelm the both of them.

As time passed, however, they realized just how much each was capable of pushing the other. After a few weeks of learning each other from head to toe, fumbling around unfamiliar curves and edges they’d finally fallen into a rhythm that had only increased in pace as time progressed. They’d already fucked on every surface in the apartment (and even once, notably, on Percival’s desk in MACUSA), when Percival realized that Newt practically melted under him when he pressed his fingers into Newt’s wrists to hold him still, that Newt came that much harder when Percival rolled him over onto his stomach and forced Newt to bear his entire weight.

Similarly, Newt must have noticed how Percival would stutter into silence mid-sentence when he knelt to help him remove his boots, green eyes peering up at him from beneath auburn fringe at Percival’s feet, because it became a daily part of their interactions. Newt would help him out of his coat and boots, and oftentimes Percival would flush with arousal so quickly Newt could suck him off then and there.

The more Percival thought about it, the more natural it seemed. Newt was a giver and a caretaker at heart, always finding ways to better provide for his creatures, making sure they were happy, safe, and healthy. Percival was a caretaker at heart too, but in a much different sense. His form was of care was strict and controlling, ensuring everything was in order and everyone in their place so as to better protect the community he served from danger.

In their own ways Newt and Percival had found a way of caring for each other, Newt by aiding Percival in the house, preparing meals and helping ease Percival away from the stress of being a high-ranking auror, and Percival by providing Newt with a stable home, somewhere where he’d be safe and comfortable, where he could let himself go and just _be_ , focusing on caring for his creatures and letting Percival take care of the rest.

After coming to this realization, they’d settled quickly into the routine they had today, and soon after Newt had broached the topic of the next step of their unspoken agreement.

He wanted a symbol of Percvial’s love for him, something he could wear that would serve as a reminder, whenever he felt alone, that someone cared for him.

A collar.

He’d brought it up one night in front of the fireplace when he was resting on the floor between Percival’s knees, head pillowed on Percival’s thigh as he let Percival rake his hand gently through his hair. The mere mention of the word had sent hot arousal rushing down Percival’s spine faster than he could comprehend, and he’d pulled Newt’s mouth onto his cock before the other man could say anything else. But when Percival had finished down Newt’s throat, he’d broached the topic again, and this time they talked it out.

Percival had left the next morning with the suggestion that Newt take the day to consider whether he wanted to pick one out for himself, and if so, what style he’d like.

That had been mere hours before Newt had sought Percival out in his own office, telling him that it was Percival’s choice. Which was all good and well.

Percival had already had something in mind for him since long before they’d discussed it. And if it wouldn’t take long to track down at all.

* * *

 

Percival leaves the office at his usual time, wishing those on the nightshift a productive evening before setting out into the dusky streets, already half-empty and slipping closer into slumber. Usually he’d apparate to the small townhouse he and Newt share, but tonight he travels on foot, wrapping his scarf once around his neck to protect from the New York chill.

The shop he has in mind is a mere four blocks away, and he arrives with a few minutes to spare before closing time. The shop keeper, an aging no-maj man with a dusting of gray hair on his head approaches Percival as he enters.

“Can I help you sir?”

“Yes.” Percival turns to face the man fully, taking in his pressed brown apron and large spectacles. The man is obviously surprised at seeing a man like Percival in a store like this, but doing his best to hide it. Slowly, Percival turns away and approaches one of the racks, eyes settling immediately on what he’s come for. It had caught his eye from the window every time he’d passed by for weeks.

“Ribbon, sir?” The no-maj shuffles up alongside Percival to gaze at the display of ribbon spools.

“Yes.” Percival hopes the no-maj doesn’t notice how his voice is suddenly dry. Percival swallows, and reaches out to pick up the spool that had captivated his attention so many weeks ago.

“A lovely color, sir.” The no-maj remarks. Gently, he takes it form Percival and unwinds the first few inches, letting the ribbon catch the overhead light.

The ribbon is a glorious pale blue, a faded periwinkle that nearly glows. Percival finds himself swallowing dryly again as he watches the fabric slip between the no-maj’s fingers.

“Were you wanting a particular length, sir?”

It’s a moment before Percival realizes he’s been spoken to, and as quick as he can he wrangles himself back into control. He clears his throat.

“Yes. About 24 inches should do.” He could always trim it down later, need be.

The no-maj shuffles away to measure and cut the ribbon and before he knows it, the old man has returned, pressing a thin brown paper parcel into Percival’s hands.

Percival thanks him and pays before exiting, parcel tucked into the breast pocket of his coat where it feels as though its burning a hole straight to his heart.

Disregarding his own distaste for using magic in public, he ducks into the first alley he sees and barely takes the time to glance in either direction to ensure the coast is clear before apparating straight to the landing of his home.

Outside the door he pauses, pressing one hand on his chest over where the parcel lays tucked in his coat, listening for the sound of Newt scuttling around inside.

He's greeted with the sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs near the entry way, a string of curses and a loud crash, telling Percival that in all likelihood the niffler has escaped again. With his heart about to beat out of his chest, Percival taps the door with his wand, undoing the wards the protect his home from intruders and sweeps inside.

The sight that greets him is enough to force a chuckle from him. Newt stands just a few feet from the entryway in a white shirt and undershorts, the niffler wriggling desperately in his hands in an attempt to free itself and undoubtedly go plunder more of Percival’s belongings. Newt himself looks like he’s been hit by some kind of stun curse.

Percival shuts the door behind him and lifts his scarf over his head, unable to kill the smile that has taken root on his face.

The niffler finally manages to weasel its way free and unceremoniously drops to the ground, scurrying away as fast as its little legs can carry it, out of sight. Newt does nothing to follow, instead staring at Percival with wide eyes.

Normally Percival would reprimand Newt for not coming to help him undress, but this time he lets it slide.

Tonight is a special occasion, after all.

“Did you—“ Newt trails off, eyebrows quirking up. He looks so eager Percival almost wants to tease him by drawing this out even more. But Newt’s been so good and patient with him these past months. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his gift.

Newt’s eyes drop to the package and his red lips part into a small ‘o’.

“Come here.” Percival sets the parcel down to finish removing his coat before picking it back up just as Newt crosses over to him on what looks like shaky legs. His eyes haven’t left the parcel since Percival first drew it out.

Slowly, Percival unfolds the paper to reveal the length of ribbon carefully folded inside.

He doesn’t miss the soft intake of breath from the man in front of him. A glance up shows that Newt looks positively bewitched.

“When you mentioned wanting...this, I thought perhaps you’d enjoy something more traditional. A leather thing with a buckle.” Gently, he slips the ribbon free and lets the paper flutter to the floor, holding the stretch of fabric with both hands like something delicate. “But even before you asked, I thought you’d look gorgeous in something like this.”

Newt looks up at him then and something in his face breaks Percival’s heart just a little. He’s so beautiful it almost hurts, but he doesn’t know it; no one had ever told him before Percival.

“Will you let me put it on you?”

Newt has only to nod once before Percival is circling him. His palms have started to sweat a little as the excitement builds in him. He’s dreamed of this since he’d first noticed the spool on the rack in the shop window and yet had been too afraid to breathe a word of it to Newt. And now he’s standing here, about to see his dream fulfilled.

“Hold still.”

Slowly, he loops the ribbon around Newt’s throat, making sure to keep it loose enough to be comfortable. He doesn’t miss the tremor that passes through the man under his hands. Percival ties a simple bow in the back, letting the loops and ends dangle down to just above Newt’s shoulder blades. Percival takes in a shaky breath of air and uses his hands to turn Newt to face him.

Newt’s cheeks are flushed with color and the dusting of pink across his cheekbones contrasts so beautifully with the blue across his throat. He steals a glance up at Percival shyly, always one to shrink when studied, and meets Percival’s eyes with his own shining green ones.

Percival doesn’t know how many times he’s come to this realization, but Newt Scamander is _stunning_ , the kind of stunning that makes it hard to think, to breathe. With the ribbon tied around his neck Percival feels nearly faint.

Newt Scamander is his, Percival’s, and he looks positively _kept_ like this, bearing Percival’s claim around his throat, and once more Percival wonders how he managed to capture a creature like this. He imagines in some other age Newt would have been more at home with the nymphs of some ancient overgrown forest than with his fellow man. The fact that he is here, right now, in Percival’s home fills him with a swell of emotion that has him taking Newt’s face between his hands and drawing him into a kiss just as Newt opens his mouth to ask him how it looks.

He hauls Newt up against him with an arm around his waist and nearly bows him back, licking into his mouth and relishing in the high-pitched sound that escapes Newt.

They kiss for what feels like minutes and when they separate they are both panting. Newt drops his head to Percival’s shoulder, pressing his face into Percival’s throat. Percival takes the opportunity to wrap his other arm around Newt’s shoulders, hooking two fingers beneath the silk of the ribbon. Newt shudders, curling his bare toes into the carpet beneath them. Percival can feel Newt’s growing arousal pressed perilously close to his own. He growls.

“You have no idea how you look right now.”

Newt huffs a breathless laugh into the juncture between Percival’s neck and shoulder. “Good, I hope.”

Percival pushes him back to kiss him again.

“Breathtaking,” he whispers against Newt’s lips when they break apart again. “Let me show you.”

Percival pulls him a ways down the hall to a mirror hanging above the entryway table, turning Newt so he can see himself. His hands tighten marginally on Newt’s shoulders in anticipation.

Newt takes in a breath, mouth parting again in awe when his eyes find the ribbon tied neatly around his neck. The pale blue color looks so beautiful there, contrasting with the flush of his face and the red in his hair. Seeing the way Newt’s eyes light up fills him with even greater satisfaction.

He’d made the right choice, using the ribbon instead of a traditional collar. It’s simple and delicate, while at the same time a stark departure from Newt’s more rugged apparel. Wearing it, Newt looks even more ethereal than he usually does.

Turning in his arms, Newt presses a wet, smiling kiss to the corner of Percival’s mouth. “Thank you.” He says, throwing his arms around Percival’s shoulders and leaning into him.

Percival wraps him in an embrace again and presses kisses to Newt’s face and hair, causing the man in his arms smile harder.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it.” Newt says, leaning back to look at Percival again so Percival can see the truth in his eyes.

When they come together again, the pain of arousal is impossible to ignore and Percival groans, dipping slightly to hoist Newt up against him, wrapping his legs around his waist and lining himself up against the man in his arms. All it takes is Newt rolling his hips forward once for them both break apart and moan.

“Percy—“

Newt curls downward and presses his face to Percival’s hair, putting Percival at just the right height to run his mouth along the side of the ribbon, feeling the silky fabric pressed against Newt’s flushed skin.

Its so perfect Percival can hardly take it.

Before Newt can try speaking again, Percival is already turning, stumbling up the stairs, carefully not to drop the man in his arms before he can deposit him on their shared bed.

Percival fucks Newt there, stripping him naked except for the collar and tipping him over onto his stomach before pushing in, keeping two fingers hooked under the bow at the back of Newt’s neck the entire time. He relishes in the little gasps Newt chokes out beneath him, watching as he shudders and squirms with pleasure with each thrust. Newt looks completely lost like this, face turned to one side, eyes squeezed shut and red lips open and glistening.

When Percival comes its almost embarrassingly fast and the blue of the ribbon stays burned behind his eyelids when he throws his head back. He can feel Newt shuddering under him with his own climax. He has enough presence of mind to hold him through it, pressing his palms to Newt’s hips and gently massaging his back with his thumbs, coaxing him down.

When they’re through Percival wipes Newt with a washcloth and tucks him under the covers before climbing in after him. After a few shaky breaths, Newt turns over in Percival’s arms and noses at his collarbones.

“You haven’t eaten.”

“Shhh…” Percival tries not keep down the rush of affection he feels for the man, lifting one hand and cupping Newt’s face, tracing his thumb along the edge of Newt’s cheekbone. “Rest now. We can eat later.”

Newt opens his mouth undoubtedly to argue but Percival doesn’t let him, shushing him with a kiss before pressing Newt’s face into his chest. The last thing he does is carefully untie the ribbon with a simple charm, pulling it free and resting it on the bedside table. Newt barely twitches when the ribbon slides away from him, already half asleep.

As Percival pulls Newt closer and shuts his eyes, he reminds himself to revisit the shop and buy the whole spool the next chance he gets.

After all, he can think of a few more things the ribbon would be good for.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on [tumblr](http://ginger-ai.tumblr.com)!!!! also please leave a comment or kudos it feeds my life force.


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